


A Morning At Bellamy's

by shadowglove88



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-23 03:59:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3753658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowglove88/pseuds/shadowglove88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or the one where Bellamy calls Clarke over so he can convince her to go spying on Octavia with him... and somehow instead ends up with Clarke as his housemate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Morning At Bellamy's

**Author's Note:**

> Modern AU

                "I hate you."

                Bellamy Blake's lips twitched as he eyed the pouting blonde standing in his kitchen. He was used to Clarke lying to him like this all the time. She didn't hate him. You didn't rush over the second someone you hated told you to. You also didn't demand a key to the house of someone you hated and not kill that person in their sleep. All this considered, her constant denial was utterly adorable in his books. "I think we both know that that's a lie."

                She pouted deeper and moved to sit heavily on one of the kitchen stools, leaning hard against the surface of the counter as if the weight of the world were dragging her downwards. She picked up her cup, the one he'd bought with her in mind because it had a blonde Disney princess on it (she always glared at him and yet never used any other cup) and took a sip of the juice he'd had ready for her because she was on this weird juice diet so he'd bought a crapload of "organic, sugar free" juices for whenever she was over… which was always.

                 Clarke drank the horribly bitter juice (he knew because he'd tasted a sip and then had had to drown the taste with whiskey) without so much as a wince before she put the cup down with a sigh. "Why do you have to keep doing this to me?"

                "It's not _that_ bad," he tried to assure her. He wasn't even sure when these missions had begun, or why exactly he'd chosen Clarke as his companion on them – and he wasn't exactly sure how he'd gotten her to agree to them in the first place. All he knew was that Octavia wasn't mature enough to make her own choices and it had been getting boring tailing her by himself. Having Clarke around not only made the stakeouts much more interesting, but it discouraged women and men from coming up to hit on him and become annoying distractions.

                Clarke drank the rest of the juice before she got up and walked around to the sink, beginning to wash it along with the few things he hadn't gotten around to washing as yet. "You know, I'm not even Octavia's best friend or anything. I don't have to put up with this."

                "You're her _only_ friend," Bellamy pointed out while pointing his knife at her. He was in the middle of chopping up fruits because apparently Clarke could only have fruits for breakfast now due to this stupid new diet of hers – which she didn't need. But every time he pointed that out she accused him of not being supportive, so here he was with a fridge-full of awful organic juice and more fruits than he'd ever seen in his life – all in the name of being supportive.

                "I'm the only friend that _you approve of_ ," she was quick to counter as she shot him a look over her shoulder, putting the clean dishes in the dish drain, "there's a big difference there."

                Well, that was true. But he needed her on his side for this to work so he refused to listen to logic. "Her other friends are guys who want to get into her pants. You don't want to get into her pants." He paused and looked up from the honeydew melon he was chopping into squares. "Do you?" The look he received was withering. "Right." He went back to chopping. "Ergo, you are her only friend."

                "Your plans never work, and I end up with the crap end of the stick." Clarke always gave him the same excuse each and every time. And yet she always caved to him. They both knew this time wouldn't be any different.

                " _When_ have you ever gotten the crap end of the stick?" Bellamy knew he was pushing it with that one. That was why he didn't even look up from his chopping. No way could he deliver that line while looking her in her baby blues.

                Clarke glared at him. He could _feel_ it. "What about the time I caught my boyfriend cheating on me?"

                "He didn't deserve you, and you're now friends with Raven, so if you ask me I did you a favor." He used the knife to swipe the now chopped up honeydew melon squares into two bowls and reached for the cantaloupe.

                Finn Collins had been a lousy boyfriend and Bellamy had never liked him. He'd known about the cheating, but he'd also known that one tended to shoot the messenger so he couldn't exactly _tell_ Clarke that her boyfriend was a Grade A asshat. He'd had to cunningly lead her to the realization – and then he'd felt like a piece of crap because he hadn't thought she'd be that broken up about it. He hadn't realized just how much she'd actually cared about the greasy little mongrel.

                He still felt really crappy about the way he'd handled that situation.

                Her eyes narrowed. "What about the time I got dosed with a date rape drug?"

                "I never let you out of my sight and was the one who realized you were drugged." Bellamy frowned at that one. He could still remember that night and how at first he'd thought it incredibly cute how quickly she'd gotten drunk – until he'd realized her pupils were dilated and something just wasn't right. It didn't take him long to google (on his iPhone) the side effects of rohypnol and realize that the only drink Clarke had had that hadn't come from him had come from one of his old acquaintances. "I also am the one who beat the crap out of Dax for giving you that shit. If you recall, I got arrested for it but _still_ made sure you got home safely – so strictly speaking _I_ got the crap end of that stick."

                "What about the time I ended up with Murphy's tongue down my throat?" She wanted to know, hands on her hips.

                "I nearly tore his tongue out," Bellamy reminded with a sneer at the memory of coming back to the table (after going to get them drinks) to find that scene. "He hasn't approached you since despite having bothered you for months."

                Her chin raised. "What about _Lexa_?"

                Bellamy flinched because, yeah, that was probably one of his biggest fuck ups when it came to his and Clarke's missions – and to be fair, that hadn't actually been an official meeting – it'd been Octavia's 23rd birthday party at her favorite bar. When he'd pushed Clarke onto Lexa with a hissed " _Distract her_!" he hadn't realized that that would land Clarke with an admirer who not only was persistent in her attentions, but who so _obviously_ detested his guts. "Okay, okay, so _that one_ didn't play out the way it was supposed to. You were just supposed to distract her so she'd stop hitting on my sister, I didn't realize that the reason she was talking to O in the first place was to get information on you." He raised an eyebrow. "But no one told you to date her."

                "It would've looked weird if one minute I was practically on top of her _because_ _you pushed me_ – and then the next I'm totally uninterested!" Clarke snapped at him.

                "Okay, one date I get," Bellamy muttered, not wanting to admit just how much that whole situation had bothered him. "But three? C'mon Clarke. I think you were curious, and you're just blaming me because it didn't work out and now she's all 'Love is a weakness and I hate being weak for you' on you."

                She glared darker at him. "I. Hate. You."

                And there she went with her denial. It was adorable. "And yet you're going to put on a sexy little dress and you're going to come out with me tonight to make sure that Octavia doesn't date another Wells."

                "Wells is _nice_!" Clarke, of course, was biased. Wells was her childhood friend. Before meeting Bellamy Clarke obviously hung around with the wrong kind of guys - Finn and Wells were just prime examples of that.

                "He was getting in her pants while wanting to be in _your_ pants." Bellamy glared right back at her. "That is _not_ a nice guy."

                "Things aren't _like_ that between us!" Clarke snapped at him.

                "Yeah, because _you_ don't let them be!" He snapped right back. Why couldn't she see that her "childhood bestie" wanted _so much more_ with her? It annoyed the hell out of Bellamy!

                They stood there glaring at each other.

                The front door opened and slammed closed. "Hey Clarke! I randomly stopped by to see my brother and saw your car outside. Are you murdering Bellamy yet?"

                "Just. About. To." Clarke's voice was a growl.

                Octavia popped her head in and looked far too amused with the situation. "So, is this a mission meeting?"

                Bellamy tried for both shock and confusion because no one would believe innocence. "What mission meeting?"

                Octavia rolled her eyes. "I _know_ all about you shanghaiing Clarke into your little "let's keep Octavia single forever" schemes." She raised an eyebrow. "You're not exactly subtle. Almost every time you end up getting thrown out of the bar because someone _dares_ talk to Clarke, or look at her..." She smirked. "Or breathe in her general direction."

                "She was _drugged_ ," Bellamy growled. "And then suffered the disgust of having Murphy's tongue down her throat. Forgive me if that makes me a little protective of her."

                "All of those things that happened were your fault," Octavia declared without any sense of loyalty.

                " _Thank you_ ," Clarke declared.

                "Traitor." Bellamy pointed at her with his knife once more.

                "She's _my_ friend, not yours," Octavia reminded him. "If she owes loyalty to anyone, it's _me_."

                He snorted. "She's totally loyal to me."

                Octavia snorted. "Sure she is."

                Bellamy frowned, not liking the insinuation. He turned to the blonde and passed her one of the bowls with freshly cut fruits. "You're loyal to me." It wasn't a question, it was a declaration.

                Clarke pulled open a drawer and pulled out two forks, handing one to him. "What do I get out of it?"

                "There is no negotiation – we are not negotiating." His lips parted as he snatched the fork from her and stabbed it into one of the melon chunks in his own bowl. "You _are_ loyal. No ifs ands or buts."

                "So I'm not getting an option or say in this?" Clarke wanted to know as she plopped a cantaloupe square in her mouth.

                "Not at all," he replied as he did the same.

                Clarke turned and looked at Octavia with what Bellamy considered a "so there" expression, even though he was sure his sister would take it as a "oh my god what do I do with him?" expression – which it _so_ wasn't.

                Octavia snickered. "When are you two going to move in together? You're basically already married."

                Bellamy blinked. _Huh_?

                "Please," Clarke snorted. "As if I'd have him."

                His lips parted in outrage. "That's it, you're moving in."

                Clarke looked up at him and then raised an eyebrow. "What's in it for me?"

                He motioned to her bowl of fruit.

                " _This_ is what's in it for me?" She didn't look at all impressed.

                "What other guy makes you breakfast?" He wanted to know… and then paused because, really, he _wanted to know_.

                She chewed on a fruit cube for a second before she swallowed. "I have conditions."

                He wasn't surprised. She never did anything without complaining or conditions. It's why he called her CC whenever he was annoyed with her. "Such as?"

                "No house parties unless the both of us have approved of it."

                "Since when am I a party guy?" he wanted to know with a raised eyebrow. Sure, he might've been, once, but his time was too full now (and would be in the future) for any such stuff.

                "I want a dog." She quickly cut him off when he was about to complain. "You have a yard. There's more than enough space for a dog."

                "I prefer cats," he replied.

                "Let's compromise and get both," Clarke declared, as if she'd just handed him a better deal. "You always wanted a dog when you were a kid and never got to have one – and I wouldn't mind a cat if I could get it from a kitten."

                Bellamy opened his mouth and then closed it. "Well, I _did_ want a puppy."

                "A German Sheppard," Clarke declared, proving she'd paid attention despite how drunk she'd been the night he'd told her that.

                "Yeah." He grinned at the fact that she'd remembered. "Okay. I think we can compromise." He narrowed his eyes. "But the dog gets its own little house out in the yard. He will _not_ be an indoor dog."

                Clarke merely smiled at him and Bellamy realized then and there that that dog would probably only go outside to crap. Damn it.

                "Any other conditions, princess?" Bellamy felt like he should be writing these down, but figured that Clarke wouldn't forget any so he was okay with just winging it. It never occurred to him at that time that Clarke might add more conditions later on and he'd never be too sure whether they'd been a part of the original deal he'd agreed to or not.

                "We're getting some channels added to our cable subscription," she declared. "You have the sports package and there's only so much sports I can take."

                He decided not to let her know he'd already upped his package so that there would be some of those girly channels she liked so much. Let her think she was winning this debate. "Okay. I can agree to that."

                Clarke grinned brightly. "I get to pull the carpet from my bedroom because if paint falls on the carpet---."

                "Why not just use the garage?" Bellamy wanted to know, not sure why she looked so shocked. "I'm not using it, and I figure you could get yourself a decent canvas to fit in there, and there'd be enough space for you to—oof!" He had an armful of Clarke Griffin and wasn't sure what to do with it. He held his hands up in confused shock before he finally hugged her back. "So, uh, yeah. The garage is yours."

                "Remember the other thing," Octavia cleared her throat.

                Bellamy blinked. What other thing? Why was there another thing and why did Octavia know about it?

                "Oh, right!" Clarke pulled away and cleared her throat. "I need you to pose for me."

                Bellamy blinked. "Come again?"

                "I have this assignment I need to start on and I know you make fun at me for being an art major but---."

                "I'm only teasing you when I do that," he was quick to tell her. "I think your work is amazing."

                She paused and looked at him oddly, a small smile on her face. "You do?"

                "I didn't realize you didn't know." He felt bad about that now. "You're incredibly talented, Clarke."

                She flushed in pride. "Thank you."

                Octavia looked between them and grinned. "So, since Bell _obviously_ loves your paintings, he won't mind being the star of your next piece." She turned a mischievous smile in Bellamy's direction. "The theme is: _Scenes from the Underworld_."

                "Wait, am I supposed to be _Hades_?" Bellamy blinked.

                "No, idiot, you're Persephone." Octavia rolled her eyes.

                Bellamy flipped her the finger.

                She smiled serenely back.

                He turned to Clarke. "Okay, fine, I'll be your model."

                Clarke looked like she was barely keeping from jumping up and down. "Okay, one last condition."

                Bellamy nodded. "Sure, shoot."

                She cleared her throat. "You let me pay half of the rent."

                He glared at her, seriously annoyed. "No."

                "Bell, I'm going to be---."

                "You're in school still," he cut her off. "Graduate and start selling your pieces and _then_ we'll have this discussion."

                She paused and then cleared her throat. "Then I'll get the groceries."

                He paused. "Clarke --."

                "I can afford that," she replied.

                He eyed her closely before he nodded. "Fine."

                She smiled at him.

                He smiled at her.

                Octavia cleared her throat and broke into the moment. "That wasn't the last condition."

                "It wasn't?" Bellamy turned to his sister, still confused as to how she knew of the conditions.

                "It wasn't?" Clarke looked confused as well.

                Octavia looked like she wanted to strangle Clarke. "You're forgetting about, you know, _the condition_." At Clarke's continued blank expression, Octavia growled and made some vague hand gestures as way of explanation. " _You know_."

                Somehow, Clarke understood that, because her eyes widened. "Oh my god you're right! I forgot about _the condition_."

                "This is why you have me in your life," Octavia informed her.

                "You are very correct," Clarke agreed before she turned to Bellamy. "There is actually one more condition."

                He looked between them suspiciously. "I'm listening, princess."

                "Well," Clarke looked nervous and that made Bellamy nervous. "You know mom and Kane are getting married this Saturday…"

                "Yeah?" He frowned, confused as to why this was getting brought up. He'd known for a while about the wedding, he'd it marked off on his calendar so he wouldn't do something stupid like forget the date. Women got crazy when you forgot dates.

                "I want you to come as my Plus One," Clarke declared, looking at him nervously.

                Bellamy waited for her to continue, and when she didn't he grew more and more confused.

                Clarke licked her lips. "I mean, I'm not going to force you or anything but I thought it would be nice if you came as my Plus One, and I'd be bored if you weren't there--."

                "Wait a minute," Bellamy cut into her ramble. "Wasn't I _always_ coming as your Plus One?"

                Clarke's eyes widened. "You _were_?"

                You mean he _hadn't_? That was… unnerving. He'd just assumed that if Clarke had to go somewhere, and a guest could be brought, he'd automatically be that guest. "I have it in my calendar and everything."

                The smile Clarke gave him was both blinding and confusing, but he was happy that he'd made her this happy – although he wasn't sure _why_ she'd thought she'd had to make it a condition. In fact, if she'd gone with someone else he'd have been _seriously_ offended.

                "Okay, great." Clarke cleared her throat, grinning like a loon.

                Octavia wasn't far behind. "Now that my job here is done, I'm off. You two let me know if you need help moving Clarke's things." She winked to Clarke. "See ya." And with that she was gone.

                Bellamy observed Clarke.

                Clarke observed Bellamy.

                Both took a bite of melon and chewed.

                Bellamy eyed her once he swallowed. "Who else were you thinking of inviting to your mom's wedding?"

                "No one." She looked away.

                He narrowed his eyes. "Good. Because I even got a friend of mine to loan me his suit for the occasion."

                Clarke turned to look at him, eyes wide. "You're going to wear a suit?"

                He blinked in confusion at her shock. "Isn't that what you wear to weddings?"

                She gulped. "Yeah… I just… I've never seen you out of jeans." She then flushed and brought a forkful of melon to her mouth.

                Bellamy stared down at her and grinned as he realized that her adorableness was going to be the death of him.

                "So…" Clarke cleared her throat. "Are we still on for tonight's mission?"

                For a moment he didn't know what she was talking about, and then he remembered the reason he'd called her over this morning. "Nah. Octavia can take care of herself for _one_ night. We should just use today to move you in, what do you think?"

                Clarke smiled into her bowl. "Sounds reasonable."

                As they ate in companionable silence, Bellamy watched Clarke and congratulated himself on a job well done.

                She'd basically fallen into his trap. He'd been adorable and somehow had managed to fool her into living with him. And somehow, Octavia had gotten pulled into his web too.

                He was really good at this whole cunning thing.

                Smiling brightly, he never noticed when Clarke pulled out her phone, texted _"Thanks O! Your brother won't know what hit him!"_ and put the phone away.

                Yes, while Bellamy was silently congratulating himself on cunningly getting Clarke to move in with him, he had no idea Clarke and Octavia were silently congratulating themselves on the exact same thing.

                Later on he'd find out that _he_ was the one who'd gotten trapped in a cunning web, but by then he _really_ wouldn't care.


End file.
